Page 6 of The Chaperones

With that, he guns the engine and we hit the open sea. Immediately, the waves stretch vertically. The boat rises and crashes, sending us charging up, then plunging down, much to Lei and Javi’s delight.

Before I realize that the unease in my stomach, the paranoia fueling my body, has made me outright nauseated, Cassie’s leaning over my shoulder, asking “Hey, you okay?” She’s so close that I can smell her musky perfume, Bent’s signature scent, cloying instead of alluring.

“Fine,” I mutter. I slip Kai off my lap, wobbling as I stand. “Actually, I think I need to head downstairs. Guys, what do you say?”

A surge sends me flying toward my seat. I catch myself on its plastic back as my body lurches so close to Cassie’s that I could kiss her. Cassie doesn’t flinch. I push myself back up, and my eyes drift to Sofía. She’s squinting at me, studying me like a specimen of . . . what? A coddled house husband? A poser? A failure? An adulterer? I’ve always wondered how much Sofía knows, what Cassie may have confided in her. While Javi and Lei are best buds, we don’t interact with Sofía that often. Most of the time, Javi’s grandmother drops him off, Raymond mortifyingly talking to her in his kitchen Spanish.

“Guys, let’s head downstairs,” I say. All three boys appear to be afflicted with the childhood disability of selective hearing, so I say louder, “Downstairs. Now.”

“But I want to see the dolphins,” Kai whines.

“And you don’t think they exist downstairs?” Stop it. Don’t be mean to your five-year-old because you’re stoned and annoyed at Cassie. I tousle his hair, but he’s determined to be slighted, arms crossed, pouting. “We’ll be even closer to the dolphins down there.”

This is a lie, obviously. The whole point of a top deck is the view, but if I don’t get downstairs soon, I might end up spewing my morning smoothie all over Cassie.

Lei and Javi are lost to their conversation about a treasure map they’ve drawn of the island. It’s sweet. Most boys their age are sullen and wild. These boys are sensitive souls. This hits me with a familiar panic. They won’t stay this sweet forever. The world will get to them soon enough.

I poke Lei, who startles like he really hasn’t heard me.

“We’re going downstairs,” I tell him.

“Can Javi come too?”

“That’s up to Javi’s mother.”

Sofía nods, and the three boys follow me toward the stairs. We’re tossed back and forth as we stumble down. On the lower deck, the four of us nudge our way into a space along the side where the whitecaps spray up, casting little rainbows that I’m pretty sure aren’t my imagination. Kai cackles when a wall of ocean water douses him.

“You’re right,” he says to me. “It’s way cooler down here.”

I nudge my hip into his shoulder, feeling guilty for snapping, for how easily he forgives me. My high has settled nicely into an ambient buzzing that makes me feel alive and, for the moment, hopeful. Still, I know Cassie’s above us, that she’ll be nearby all weekend.

Kai’s laser focused on the whitecaps rippling across the ocean.

“There. There,” he shouts every few moments, certain he’s spotted a dolphin when it’s just the steel blue water playing tricks on him. “A superfeed,” he insists at a few birds circling in the distance.

We’re perched along the railing outside the café, where Ray’s holding court at a table with Stefan and Evan, reviewing the menu for the weekend. Even with Ray’s powers of persuasion, there’s only so much propane the cruise company would allow him to bring aboard, so he and the guys have been cooking all week. Knowing Ray, we have enough food to feed everyone on the island. Also knowing Ray, he’ll invite the other campers for a meal, regale them with stories, make their camping trip not that time they went to the Channel Islands but that time they met Raymond Zhao. I love my husband and his showman ways. That’s not why I started this thing with Cassie.

A gust of wind blasts across the boat, and I glance at the boys to make sure they haven’t fallen over the side. Lei reaches for his head. It’s too late. His favorite Hulk baseball cap floats like a kite in the distance. The tears well, threatening to spill over, as his eyes dart around the deck. Sawyer and Lily sit with Brady and Dave, clutching onto their own hats. While they haven’t noticed Lei, the sight of them gets him holding back the tears. They are classic mean girls, even this young.

I’m thinking about the mean girls from my youth, trying to recall the name of the one who was particularly gifted at mind games, when I notice Mona isn’t sitting beside Brady, Sawyer, and Wyatt, who squeals as he’s hunched over his father’s phone. If Mona were here, there’s no way her son would be on a phone. How many articles has she sent around about screens? Her campaign for no phones until eighth grade? Now that I think of it, I didn’t see her at the dock either. Mona never misses anything, not a single Parents Organization meeting or Friday assembly. And this is her trip. How could she not be here?

I study Brady’s face for answers. I expect an exhilarated expression of freedom, now that Mona’s not here. Instead, he’s clearly worried. Distracted.

“Dad,” Wyatt screams. It startles Brady out of his daze. “Can I go with Kai?” he whines. He wouldn’t be whining, if Mona were here. But Mona isn’t here. Cassie must have noticed it too. She must feel relieved.

I only know the outline of what happened between Cassie and Mona from PO gossip and Cassie’s periodic asides that Mona is a meddler, a bored housewife. Even before I heard about Sneakergate, I understood why Cassie disliked her. To me, though, there’s a sadness at the core of Mona, one she tries to hide but shines so bright, you can’t look directly at it.

I expect Brady to ask if I’m okay chaperoning someone else’s kid so close to the open waters. Instead, he says, “Sure,” to his son without a glance in my direction. Wyatt doesn’t waste a second before bounding over to us.

That’s when I notice Javi’s pale face lined in fear.

“You okay?” I ask.

He shakes his head no, then hurls at my feet. Chunks of orange and red in a soupy brown coat my new Off-White sneakers. Momentarily, it glistens, strangely lovely, and I find myself marveling at it. Ray scoffed when he saw me wearing these shoes this morning. You’re bringing those camping? Meanwhile, he’s got four copper pans in the hold that cost as much as a car down payment.

I need to react, to console Javi, who stares at me, guilt ridden and nauseated. I’m too stunned by the volume and the beauty of the puke desecrating my perfect shoes. In the wind, I hear those bitchy little girls giggle as someone shouts, “Javi, mi amor. You okay?”

It’s Sofía, suddenly beside us, with Cassie at her heels. Javi’s swallowing dramatically, his eyes wide with the horror of knowing what’s coming, and Sofía manages to get him angled over the side so he sends the rest of his breakfast off to sea.